


Ghosts of NYE Past

by xHookedonKillianx



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-16 05:44:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17543810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xHookedonKillianx/pseuds/xHookedonKillianx
Summary: “Keep thinking that, sweetheart. But tonight, you’re going to be shown things you don’t want to see, and you’re going to be forced to feel things you haven’t felt for a long time…” Emma tilts her head in question and Regina smirks. “Feelings.”Shaking her head, Emma backs away and cries out, “This is absolutely ridiculous! Plus, even if I did believe you—which I don’t, I’m not that much of an asshole to the people in my life… you don’t need to Scrooge me! Besides, it’s New Years, not Christmas.”





	Ghosts of NYE Past

**Ghosts of New Years Past**

Four times Emma almost turns her car around, but then she pictures the disappointment that will no doubt drip from her sister’s voice when she eventually calls to tell her, and she continues. It’s really not until she reaches the ‘Welcome to Storybrooke’ sign that her stomach starts to knot, but luckily, the giggles coming from her son in the back seat distract her.

“Mom, look! We’re almost there!”

With a sigh, she looks into the rearview mirror and smiles, “Yeah, kid, we are.”

It’s been two years since she’s been home, two years since she backed out of her family’s annual tradition because she knew she couldn’t risk the chance of running into _him_. The first year, she made up an excuse that she had to work, and Mary Margaret took Henry back with her after Christmas to spend the holiday with them. Last year, Henry was sick and while he still wanted to go, Emma jumped at the excuse and they stayed home, banging pots and pans on their balcony as they watched the ball drop in the distance.

This year, her sister all but insisted they come home— _“David and I will come drag you from New York if we have to!”_ —and Emma knew she wouldn’t be able to get out of it.

Well, she could if she told them the real reason why she didn’t want to come home for New Years but then that would require her thinking about the one thing she swore to never think about again.

Emma shakes her head and listens to the sound of her son’s video game as she turns down the main street of Storybrooke and takes a deep breath as the Mills mansion comes into view.

“Ohhh,” Henry giggles as they start up the long drive toward the house. “Grandma Regina would yell about them leaving the gates open.”

She snorts out a laugh.

“Yes, she would. Looks like you’ll have to remind Uncle David of that.”

Her adoptive mother, Regina Mills, was not the welcoming type. The gates were always to be closed, the doors were to _always_ be locked and if someone came by unannounced, they were left waiting even if she was doing nothing at all.

To this day, Emma sometimes wonders why Regina decided to adopt her…

“You’re here!” She hears the high-pitched voice squeal as soon as she steps out of her yellow bug. Looking up, she sees her sister barreling down the steps and she can’t help but smile. “I can’t believe you’re here!”

_Mary Margaret is why._

Mary Margaret always had a way of getting what she wanted, _when_ she wanted it, and when they were little, Mary Margaret wanted her best friend Emma to live with her always and become her sister… so that’s exactly what happened.

“I’m here,” Emma sighs with a forced smile while her sister hugs her.

Henry jumps out of the car, cries of happiness falling from his lips for his aunt and Emma takes a deep breath when she spots the Chevelle in the corner.

_It’s going to be a long night._

* * *

 

David greets them as they walk through the door and Emma forces herself not to look toward the living room as she carries their bags in and blows a piece of hair away from her face.

“How was the drive?” David asks as he gives Henry a hug.

“It was—Henry pick up your bag—it was okay. There was an accident on the expressway, but we got through it.”

“You look tired,” Mary Margaret tells her as she takes Henry’s coat. “Did you get any sleep last night after you got in from work?”

Rolling her eyes, she opens her mouth to respond when she hears, “I think she looks great.”

It’s like the air around her thickens and Emma has to force herself to swallow past the lump that’s formed in her throat.

“Killian!”

Henry’s voice makes her jump and she turns in time to see her son run by her and into the waiting arms of her old friend. He’s wearing a navy blue button down under a waist coat and dark jeans, and she hates to admit that his smile still makes her heart flutter. Though, if she were being honest, it makes her a little—a lot—jealous that his smile is never for her anymore, and when he looks to her, she can see the drop in his lips ever so slightly and it makes her feel empty inside.

“Hi Killian.”

“Swan.”

Her lips twitch at her nickname, it’s been years since she’s heard him call her that and she hasn’t realized until that very moment how much she’s missed it. His eyes appear to be bluer than she remembers, and while his hair is just a tad shorter than it was the last time she saw him, it still falls over his forehead in a way that makes her remember how she use to run her fingers through it while he would lay his head in her lap. Every time she would rack her nails through it, he would let out a little hum before he snuggled—

“Emma?”

She blinks and looks toward her sister.

“I’m sorry what?”

From over Mary Margaret’s shoulder, Emma sees Killian’s eyebrow tick up and she can feel her frustration start to get the best of her.

“I just said David and Killian can take your bags upstairs… I want to show you what we did with the back garden.”

Both men start to move, and Emma waves them off.

“No, it’s fine, I can—” Her and Killian reach for the same bag, causing their hands to brush together and Emma snatches hers back with a gasp. Killian lifts his head, a look of uneasiness on his face, and she mumbles, “Sorry.”

It’s been two years since she’s felt his skin against hers and she’s extremely embarrassed over the way she acted, but what she hates the most is how it caused a ripple to run up her spine. Softly shaking her head, she catches the way his jaw ticks twice before he moves to grab the bag again and this time, she doesn’t argue.

“Come on,” Mary Margaret’s voice breaks through to her and she smiles as her sisters loops her arm through her own. “Henry’s going to love it.”

* * *

It’s not that Emma spends a lot of her time avoiding Killian… it’s just that she spends a lot of her time thinking of things to do so they don’t have to interact. Every time he walks into the room, she waits a proper amount of time before making an excuse to leave and when Henry attempts to bring her into the conversation he’s having with Killian, she tells him that she has go call Anna.

Being around him is distracting, hell, being in the same _house_ as him is distracting, and it makes it a lot harder for her to suppress her memories. Weird… random memories, too. Like how he smelled after he would take showers at her apartment—a mixture of his own scent and her shampoo—or how he’d scratch at his scruff whenever he’d think about something. She also remembers how crazy he is about his socks— _“There’s nothing bloody worse than cold feet, love.”_ —and the way his eyes looked first thing in the morning and how they seemed to brighten when he woke up next to her.

It was all driving her insane.

Downing the rest of her drink, she slams her glass down onto the table and rushes up the stairs, telling everyone that she has to use the bathroom. When she gets to her old bedroom, she closes the door and heaves a deep sigh before resting her forehead against the wood.

For the life of her, Emma can’t understand why she’s feeling the way she is. Her and Killian were only together for six months, and a lot of the time he was still in London—not to mention that no one even _knew_ about them and yet…

She curses under her breath and tries to remember what Regina taught her—

_“You can’t get hurt if you shut off your feelings, Emma.”_

—but the cracks Killian formed in her armor two years prior seem to be still unsealed.

Pushing herself away from the door, Emma turns to check herself in the mirror when she sees someone standing in the middle of the room.

“What the fu—”

“Watch your language!”

Emma blinks rapidly as she stares at the woman before her and briefly wonders if she’s losing her mind. Regina Mills, her adoptive mother and former mayor of Storybrooke is standing before her with an eyebrow arched and her arms folded across her chest. There’s a hard look on the woman’s face and though her skin shows a few wrinkles that come with age, there’s not a gray hair in sight.

But that’s not what has Emma breathing deeply—no, that’s not it at all. What has her feeling as if she’s going to pass out is that Regina Mills _died_ three years ago.

“Is that anyway to speak to the woman that raised you?”

A mix between a cough and a squeal falls past Emma’s lips and her eyes widen even further.

“Mom?!” Regina presses her lips together and Emma stutters, “What… how are you—” She stops and shakes her head before crying out, “You’re dead!”

“That does _not_ mean you get to speak to me in anyway you feel like.”

Emma chuckles dryly and takes a step back. Taking a deep breath, she brings her hands up to her head and mumbles to herself, “I’m going crazy… I’m going completely insane.”

“No, you’re not.” Emma’s head snaps up as Regina’s voice echoes now from the left to find her adoptive mother sitting on the bench at the foot of the bed examining her nails. “You’re very much sane—well, as sane as any mother is during the holidays.”

“Mom,” Emma starts slowly as she walks toward her. “Why are you here?”

Regina stands and brushes her hands down the front of her dress.

“I’m here to warn you.” Her heels click on the hardwood floor and Emma stumbles back. “Don’t waste your life like I did.”

With her brows furrowed, Emma asks, “What the hell do you mean waste your life? You were a damn legend in this town! After Leo died, you took his company and made it thrive! You were the youngest mayor to have ever served office—you took in your step daughter after her father died then adopted me all so she wouldn’t be lonely—”

“I was cold and distant, and I paid others to show you two affection.” Regina takes another step forward and before Emma can move out of the way, her mother moves through her like smoke.

“Oh god!” Emma gasps.

Regina turns back to her with a small smile. “It wasn’t until your Henry came into the world that I started to feel something again… and then I go and have a damn heart attack and it’s all over with.”

“This can’t be happening,” Emma whispers as she rubs her hands over her body. “You just walked through me!”

“Emma Ruth Blanchard!” She snaps up at the strictness in her mother’s voice. “I may have not been around for much, but I _know_ I taught you better than this.”

With a dry chuckle, Emma shakes her head and walks back toward her bed. “Excuse me, _mother_ , I’m just a little freaked out about seeing you and trying to figure out why you’re here!”

“I’ve been watching you… watching how with every passing year you close yourself off more and more to love—you are definitely turning out like me.”

Emma’s brow furrows. “What the hell does that mean?”

Regina stands up straight.

“Tonight, you’re going to be visited by three ghosts.”

Silence falls between them and it’s not until Regina arches her eyebrow that Emma finally breaks down into a fit of laughter.

“Okay, now I _know_ I’m dreaming.”

Regina appears before her and a loud gasp falls past Emma’s lips.

“Keep thinking that, sweetheart. But tonight, you’re going to be shown things you don’t want to see, and you’re going to be forced to feel things you haven’t felt for a long time…” Emma tilts her head in question and Regina smirks. “ _Feelings_.”

Shaking her head, Emma backs away and cries out, “This is absolutely ridiculous! Plus, even if I _did_ believe you—which I don’t, I’m not _that_ much of an asshole to the people in my life… you don’t need to Scrooge me! Besides, it’s New Years, not Christmas.”

“Your pirate might say otherwise.”

Emma blinks. “Pirate?”

“You know….” Regina starts before she motions to the window. Emma walks over and her heart pounds when she sees Killian and Henry outside watching the snow. “Captain guyliner.”

She almost smiles because she hasn’t heard that nickname since she was a teenager but then she realizes what her mother has just said and whips back around.

“Wait, what are you—”

“It’s no secret that I didn’t love Mary Margaret’s father. Our marriage was one of convenience—he needed someone to take care of his daughter and I needed to get out of my mother’s house.” Regina brushes a piece of hair away from her face and presses her lips together. “What everyone doesn’t know is that I almost didn’t marry him.”

“What?”

With a sigh, her mother’s stone face softens before she briefly looks down at the feather tattoo on her wrist. Emma waits as Regina rubs her thumb over it before lifting her head with a sad smile on her lips.

“His name was Robin, we met in the woods outside of my parents winter cabin, and we spent a summer together.” A wistful smile appears on Regina’s lips as she continues, “I fell in love with him instantly… he was everything I could have wished for.”

Taking a step forward, Emma asks in a whisper, “What happened to him?”

There’s a moment of silence and just as quickly as the tears appear in her mother's’ eyes, they are gone, and the softness is once again replaced with the harshness Emma has known since she was a child.

“On the day I was to tell my mother that Robin and I were going to run away together, I came across a picture of me and my first love, Daniel and I remembered the pain I felt when he died… how broken my heart was.” Regina turns to her after a brief second and walks forward. “I knew the love I had for Robin was far greater and far deeper than the love I had for Daniel, and I knew that meant he could hurt me worse than anyone else could.” Emma presses her lips together and Regina shrugs. “So, I left him waiting for me and moved in with Leo, all because I was scared to get hurt again. Just like you are…”

“I’m not—”

“Remember, no matter how much it hurts, it’s all for your own good.”

Before Emma gets a chance to respond, Regina lifts her arm and opens her hand to blow dust in her face. Coughing, Emma waves her hands in front of her face to clear the dust away.

“What the hell was—”

“Emma!”

Her eyes snap open and her mouth drops. She’s not in her bedroom anymore, she’s in the hall outside of the living room with David staring at her. She whips her head back and forth before she looks to her brother-in-law.

“How did I get here?”

“What?” She blinks, her mind racing and her stomach knotting. Did what happen _really_ just happen or was she— “Emma!”

“Sorry!” She breathes out, making David’s brow furrow even deeper and she shakes her head. “I was… I think Mary Margaret was right… I think I’m a little tired.”

He looks like he wants to argue, but Emma pushes past him and tries to calm her racing heart. Henry… she needs to find her son, and then everything will be okay. Waving to those that say hello to her, Emma mindlessly walks through the halls until she remembers how her mother— _no_ , that wasn’t real—how _she_ looked out the window and saw him watching the snow with Killian.

The same Killian she’s been avoiding all night.

_“Because I was scared to get hurt again. Just like you are…”_

With a small huff, Emma rolls her eyes and decides Henry is fine with Killian—he’s always safe with Killian—so she turns to head back toward the living room—

“Shit!”

“Well, that’s one way to say hello to your first boyfriend.”

Emma’s eyes go wide and her mouth drops.

“Graham?! Oh my god! I didn’t know you were back!” She goes to move forward but stops when she takes notice of the way he looks. The last time she saw him was about a year ago when he came to New York on vacation with his fiancée, he had almost a full beard and looked very huntsman-y, but now? He looks so baby faced, so young… just like he did when they were—Emma snaps back, her mouth falling open. “Why do you look like your sixteen again?”

Graham smiles and Emma presses her lips together before she slowly lifts her hand and pokes at his chest, only to have her finger go right through him.

“Shit…”

“You always did have a way with words.”

“Please tell me I’m dreaming,” Emma pleads, her hands once again going to her head. “This isn’t real, none of this can be real!”

“It’s real, Emma,” he mumbles, a small smile on his face. “Now we don’t have a lot of time… let’s go.”

Before she can respond, Graham lifts his hand and snaps. What happens next is something Emma can’t really explain—one second they are inside, and the next they are outside the Mills mansion, but unlike earlier, there’s no snow on the ground and she doesn’t see her yellow bug, or Killian’s Chevelle anywhere.

“How did we get outside?” She twirls around with her brow furrowed. “And how did you get it to stop snowing?”

“You _do_ remember what I’m here for, right?”

Pressing her lips together, she mutters, “I’m trying not to.” A moment passes where nothing happens, and she asks, “Did you bring me out here to show me the change in weather?”

Graham chuckles.

“Were you ever not impatient?” Emma rolls her eyes as he points to the left. “Here they come now.”

It’s not a moment later that she hears a loud giggle before a young boy comes running around the corner.

“Oh… my… god…” She whispers, taking a step forward. His brown hair pokes out under his beanie hat, his blue eyes sparkle and his cheeks are rosy from the cold. Biting her bottom lip, she gives a small laugh, “Look at him.”

The boy looks around for a moment before he jumps behind the potted plant and kneels to hide. Emma’s brow furrows and she’s about to ask what’s going on when she hears footsteps followed by a young girl’s voice.

_“Killian!”_

Emma gasps when she sees her younger self rounding the corner. She’s wearing a gray beanie and her blonde hair is whipping in the wind. There’s a large smile pulled on her lips and Emma feels an ache in her chest because she can’t remember the last time she’s smiled like that.

_“I know you’re here. I’m going to find you.”_

Her younger self looks around while Emma looks to where young Killian is hiding to find him silently giggling.

“You and Killian were friends since the moment his mother started to bring him around,” Graham explains as he steps up next to her. “The two of you use to always sneak away to—”

“Play hide and seek.” Emma finishes as she watches her younger self find young Killian hiding behind the potted plant. “We always found each other right away, though.”

_“You found me, lass.”_

_“I always do!”_ Young Emma giggles. _“Now it’s your turn to find me.”_

Young Killian smiles. _“Alright, but no hiding down by the pool this time. Mum nearly had a fit last year.”_

_“Killian, I’m not a little girl anymore!”_

_“You’ll always be a little duckling to me.”_

“Duckling?”

Emma presses her lips together and keeps her eyes forward.

“When we were down at the pool house, he found my floaties… they had ducklings on them.”

“You wore floaties?” Graham asks, his voice dripping with amusement while Emma rolls her eyes.

“I was a kid, of course I wore floaties! How else do you think I swam?”

“I just figured your stubbornness kept you afloat.”

Young Killian pats her head and though the smaller version of herself huffs and shoves his hand away, Emma finds herself smiling at it.

“Do you remember what you thought when you first saw him?”

Emma briefly looks to the ground before she lifts her head and answers, “No.”

“That’s a lie.” Graham snorts. “You thought he was the most beautiful boy you had ever seen, and you told Mary Margaret that you were in love.”

“I don’t think that’s what I said.”

Graham tilts his head with a blank stare.

“You told her that you were going to marry him one day… you were seven.”

She remembers it like it were yesterday. At the age of seven, he was the first boy that made her stomach flip and cheeks to flush and all she knew was that she wanted to be around him all the time.

Her younger self lightly punches him in the arm before she runs and calls over her shoulder, _“Count to twenty then come find me!”_

“I was a child,” Emma whispers, her gaze trained on younger Killian who covers his eyes while he counts. “I had a crush… that’s all.”

There’s a huff from Graham and the wind starts to whip. Emma looks up and she sees the surroundings around them are starting to blur. She’s shown the New Year’s Eve’s throughout the years—New Years where her and Killian spend time together as children, running around the Mills grounds before falling asleep by the fire—until they stop at one New Year’s Emma remembers vividly.

She’s ten and he’s thirteen, and they are standing in the doorway to the living room. Knowing what’s coming, Emma bites her bottom lip and watches as the countdown begins and just when everyone screams out _Happy New Year_ , she pushes herself forward and presses a light kiss to Killian’s lips.

Emma’s hand moves to cover her mouth when she sees younger Killian’s eyes go wide

“He was your first kiss.” Graham’s voice makes her jump.

Brushing her hands through her hair, she mumbles, “Yeah, well, everyone has one.”

Graham doesn’t say anything, and their surroundings begin to swirl again. She sees the next few New Year’s pass by—all New Year’s where Emma’s following Killian around like a little puppy dog, holding his hand, and laying her head on his shoulder while Killian smiles softly and calls her his little duckling—until it finally stops on a New Year’s Emma remembers all too well.

Emma lets out a stuttering breath as Regina opens the door to greet Mrs. Jones along with Liam and Killian. She watches as a nineteen-year-old Killian lifts his head before his entire body freezes. His lips slowly part and his eyes are focused forward.

“What’s wrong—”

When she looks toward the grand stairs, a soft _oh_ falls past her lips as she sees her sixteen-year-old self standing at the top. It’s a moment she remembers _very_ vividly and a moment she knows for a fact that is burned into Killian’s brain—he told her himself.

It’s the first time they’ve seen each other in two years—Brennan abandoned them, and it took Killian’s mother a few years to work out the mess he left—and though they’ve written and spoke on the phone, it wasn’t the same. Emma remembers how her heart was fluttering in her chest as she saw him and how she breathed out,

_“Killian.”_

The younger version of herself runs down the steps and it’s only just before she launches herself into his arms that Killian finally snaps himself out of his stupor and catches her.

_“Emma, I’m so happy to see you.”_

_“Emma?”_ Her younger self asks as she pulls back, her hands slowly moving down Killian’s arms. _“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you call me by my name.”_

Killian blushes and captures her hands in his while mumbling, _“Well, it would appear you’re not a duckling anymore.”_

_“I’m not?”_

_“No,”_ he whispers and reaches up to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. _“You’re a swan.”_

“Do you remember what he told you about this moment?” Graham’s voice makes her jump.

She doesn’t answer right away, instead, she watches as her and Killian smile at each other before Graham says her name to get her attention.

“He told me that he had never seen anything more beautiful.”

“And?”

Briefly closing her eyes, she waits a moment before folding her arms across her chest and whispering, “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes it—”

Emma turns to Graham with a hard glare.

“You’re this all knowing… _thing_. Then you know what happens in this New Year’s, don’t you? So what he told me about is irrelevant.”

“Emma—”

“Just get to it, Graham,” she huffs in irritation. “We don’t have all night.”

He raises his brow and lifts his hand to snap his fingers. Their surroundings swirl, quick flashes of her and Killian together that night—them laughing, them flirting—until it stops on them right before the count down. With a deep breath, Emma turns to watch and ignores the lump that’s forming in the back of her throat.

_“Killian, I made a resolution.”_

_“Aye? What is it, love?”_

_“My resolution is to be honest with you, and I wanted to tell you that I… that I care about you.”_

Killian looks to the ground, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment before he lifts his head with a nod.

_“I care about you, too, Swan.”_

Emma sees her younger self’s face light up and it makes her heart ache.

_“I was hoping that maybe—”_

_“You’re like family.”_ He breathes out and the way her younger versions face drops, makes Emma’s stomach knot. _“My favorite little sister.”_

The sound of everyone counting down seems to fade as Graham steps up next to her.

“He broke your heart with those words, the first guy you ever had feelings for…”

“It was just a crush.”

“Yes, that’s why the next holiday when you were dating me, you used me to make him jealous.”

With a sigh, she mumbles, “That’s not true…” He lifts his eyebrow and she rolls her eyes. “Okay, maybe I used you a little, but I did like you.”

“I know you did,” he responds with a smile. “But not as much as you liked Killian.”

Graham snaps his fingers again and it’s another swirl of memories. The following year, Emma winces as she watches her seventeen-year-old self do the typical teenage thing of attempting to make Killian jealous by hanging all over some other guy. That other guy being Graham, and she remembers Killian seeming to be almost unaffected by it, but now that she’s getting another glance she sees something completely different. Something that goes along more with what Killian told her a few years ago…

She sees hurt.

Their surroundings change again and when they come clear into view, Emma’s stomach knots.

“This isn’t New Year’s.”

“No,” Graham starts as he walks up next to her, his eyes on the scene in front of them. “It’s not. But it’s important to the story.”

Regina comes rushing in a moment later, but Emma’s gaze is locked on herself curled into a ball on the chair in front of her adoptive mother’s desk.

_“I’ve spoken to the sheriff,”_ Regina explains as she places a folder on the desk before sitting in her chair. _“They’ve agreed to allow for you to serve out your sentence on house arrest and after you’ll have probation for a year.”_

There’s a moment of silence before young Emma lifts her head and asks in a whisper, _“What about the baby?”_

Regina presses her lips together as she folds her hands in front of her on the desk.

_“That baby is your decision.”_ It’s the only time in Emma’s life she remembers her adoptive mother’s voice being so _understanding_. _“Whatever your decision is, you have my full support.”_ Young Emma looks up at her in shock and Regina tilts her head. _“You want to have an abortion? I’ll call doctor Whale and set up an appointment… you want to put the baby up for adoption? We’ll start the necessary paperwork—”_

_“And if I want to keep it?”_

_“Then you’ll keep it. I’ll hire a tutor so that you can finish school and we’ll get one of the guest bedrooms ready for a new baby.”_ Regina stands from her chair and walks to the front of her desk. _“But keeping this baby means that your childhood is over, Emma. It means that you have to grow up and you can’t make any mistakes, and that includes with men.”_

_“What?”_

_“Love is weakness, and I understand why you let it overcome you—you’re young, we’ve all been there. But now that you know how much it can hurt, I’m going to tell you something my mother told me.”_ Young Emma looks up at her with tears in her eyes. _“You can’t get hurt if you shut off your feelings, Emma, and to prevent anything like this from happening again, it’s best if you learn that now.”_

Emma looks to Graham as he steps up.

“This is the moment you wanted me to see?”

“This is the moment that changed you… this is the moment you decided it was better to put a wall up around your heart then ever deal with being hurt again.”

The surroundings swirl and she’s confused when she finds them in her bedroom again at the Mills mansion. The fireplace is lit and before she can ask when it is, there’s a knock at the bedroom door. Emma’s breath hitches when she sees a very pregnant version of herself waddle toward it with her brow furrowed.

_“Yes?”_

_“Love? It’s Killian.”_

Emma watches as her younger self backs away from the door with her eyes closed and curses under her breath. It’s New Year’s Eve, and she told Regina she wasn’t up for being around anyone—embarrassment still plaguing her—but it seems Killian didn’t listen.

_“Emma, please.”_

Young Emma places her hand on her stomach, takes a deep breath and opens the door. Killian’s face is exactly how she remembers, relieved and hopeful, but when the door opens fully, his eyes automatically move to her eight-month large stomach. There’s silence, and young Emma fidgets on her feet before Killian smiles up at her.

_“Hello, Swan.”_

Emma bites her lip as she watches her younger self instantly break down at the use of her nickname. Killian pushes through the door, taking her in his arms and softly rocking her back and forth.

“He spent the rest of the night with you so that you wouldn’t be alone,” Graham says softly. “He was by your side as much as one could be when they live in another country and when Henry was born, he flew in just so he could be with you despite the fact that he could only stay five hours. Besides your sister, Killian has been the only constant person in your life since you were seven.”

“Yeah,” she breathes out, turning her eyes away from the young couple on the couch. “He’s family.”

The word tastes like vomit and makes a lump form in the back of her throat. When Graham doesn’t respond, she looks back to him and watches as he lifts his eyebrow before snapping his fingers. Where they appear is a place that’s all too familiar to her and it instantly makes her stomach knot.

“You know where we are, don’t you?”

Emma doesn’t answer him, she simply looks up to see herself from two years ago sitting at the bar with some of her friends. She’s wearing a red dress—one she only wore when her sister took Henry for the weekend and she got _adult_ time—and she’s two glasses of rum in when her phone beeps.

She doesn’t have to get closer to know what the message reads, it’s etched into her memory forever.

**How did you know my favorite color was red? – KJ**

She remembers how her heart sped up when she read that message and how she held her breath as she looked around the bar. It had been six months since they saw each other—he flew in for Henry’s eighth birthday—and she had no idea he would be back so soon.

Despite it being two years in the past, Emma still has to bite her lip at the sight of Killian standing at the end of the bar. He’s wearing dark gray dress slacks, a red button down, and his hair is styled perfectly.

“Look at the way you run toward him,” Graham says with a smile. “Despite your walls… you never could block out Killian Jones.”

Killian pulls her younger self close, his eyes closing briefly as he wraps his arms around her and lifts her off the ground for a big hug. His hugs were always so warm and tender, she remembers how she always felt safe when he hugged her, and she misses it.

Emma and Graham watch the young couple as the night moves along—Emma had ditched her friends and her and Killian had moved to the end of the bar where they sat close together talking about Henry and their families. It’s the usual for the conversations, it’s safe… until she has her fourth glass of rum that she realized something she hadn’t before.

It’s been _years_ since they’ve been alone together. Before Regina died, he and Liam would still come to New Year’s, but the tradition had kind of fell off after she passed away so she only saw him the few times he flew in and Henry was always around. Now they are _alone_ and flirting, and there’s nothing holding her back.

_“You know, you’re the only man that has ever turned me down.”_ Killian looks to her in question and she laughs with a nod, _“It’s true and you know it. That New Year’s you called me your little sister.”_ He winces. _“Turned me down flat.”_

Killian blushes as he takes a sip of his rum.

_“Not because I wanted to, darling, I assure you.”_ Emma raises her eyebrow and he chuckles. _“You were sixteen! I could have gotten in trouble, you know? But you were dead set on torturing me anyway.”_

_“Torturing you?!”_

_“Aye, torturing me. I wanted you before you grew up to become the lovely Swan that you are now.”_ She looks down at her drink while Killian leans his elbow against the bar. _“I just had to wait…”_

_“Well, I’m not sixteen anymore.”_

Killian bites his bottom lip, his eyes moving over her face. _“No, no you’re not.”_ He takes a step closer and whispers, _“Go out with me.”_

_“What?”_

_“Go out to dinner with me tomorrow night.”_ Young Emma looks down at her glass and Killian places his finger under chin. _“I know Henry is away—”_

_“It’s not that… I just… I don’t… do... dates.”_

Killian smirks. _“That’s because you haven’t been out with me yet.”_

They stare at each other for a long while before Emma brushes her hair over her shoulder to give him a clear view of her cleavage.

_“How about instead we go somewhere quieter?”_ Killian’s eyebrow ticks up. _“So we can…_ talk _.”_

“Subtle, Emma,” Graham snorts.

“I wasn’t trying to be subtle.”

“I can tell… did it work?”

With her eyes still on her and Killian, she smiles and answers softly, “No. He told me he didn’t just want one night… that he was selfish and he knew it would never be enough.”

“But he also gave you an out, didn’t he?”

Emma presses her lips together before she runs her hand through her hair and turns away from the young couple. “He told me that nothing would change, no matter my decision… I would still be his Swan.”

There’s a pause before Graham asks, “And what did you decide?”

“You know my decision.”

She hears the snap and when she looks up she sees her and Killian standing in the hall outside of her apartment. They are both wearing the same smile on their faces and she remembers how her stomach was fluttering as he brushed his thumb across her knuckles. Their first date was one of the best she’s ever had—he was a perfect gentleman and they had an amazing time. But again, when it came time for something a little more… _intimate_ he backed off, instead, choosing to place a soft kiss on her forehead.

_“I will kiss you… on our third date.”_

She tilts her head back and murmurs, _“Third? I don’t remember agreeing to a second.”_

_“Aye, you did, it was when we spoke of ice skating.”_

“Smooth,” Graham interrupts and Emma shushes him.

_“I said I’ve never been there.”_

_“And I said I would take you and you agreed. So, how does tomorrow work for you?”_

Emma bites her bottom lip as she watches her younger self search Killian’s face.

“It worked,” Graham says before nodding to the left. She turns and suddenly the scene changes to her and Killian’s second date at the Rockefeller Center. The sight of her almost falling on the ice and Killian helping her makes her giggle and she almost forgets that Graham is next to her. “You two have another great date and when he takes you home that night, he makes good on his promise—he doesn’t kiss you and you agree to a third date.”

She turns and the scene changes again to her and Killian standing outside of her apartment building after their third date. It’s like time slows as she watches Killian lean down to kiss her younger self and Emma’s hand unconsciously goes to her lips. She still remembers what his lips tasted like and how his fingers tightened on the back of her neck and how he hummed when she pushed her tongue into his mouth and how well they just… _fit_ together.

“If this were a romantic comedy—” Graham’s voice once again makes her jump. “—this would be the time we would start a montage of your relationship while some pop love song played in the background.” Emma turns to him with a blank stare and he smirks. “Love Fool by The Cardigans, maybe? Or Kiss Me by Sixpence None The Richer? Which do you prefer?”

“Neither!”

Graham shrugs. “Either way, you’re getting a montage.”

He snaps his fingers and flashes of her and Killian’s relationship swirl around them. Flashes of her running into his arms at the airport and kissing him deeply after not seeing him for two weeks, flashes of her, him and Henry throwing popcorn at each other during their movie nights, and flashes of her pulling Killian back to bed as he tries to pack for London.

Emma watches her younger self laugh and smile and she finds it so… foreign… so unrecognizable because she can’t remember the last time she was so…

“Happy.”

“Yes,” Graham answers. “You were.” The scene swirls again until they stop on a memory that’s forever burned into her brain. “And then you went and did this.”

“I know what happens here,” she mumbles, her heart beginning to race as she watches Killian walk out of the hotel with a large smile on his face while he looks down at his phone. “We don’t need to see this.”

“Oh, I think we do.” She glares at Graham and he motions to where Killian is standing. “You’ve been seeing each other for six months, you haven’t told anyone because with him still living in London, you two figured it was best to just keep it private until it could become more serious.” Her lips press together to keep her chin from quivering, her eyes still on Killian as Graham continues, “And it was about to become more serious.”

Graham nods to over her shoulder, but she doesn’t have to look to know what he sees. It’s her, coming around the corner wearing a light pink dress and her long hair blowing in the spring breeze.

“He was moving to New York to be with you and Henry.”

“He got a job,” Emma whispers, her tongue barely able to tell the lie, and when she finally looks up at Graham, she can tell by the look on his face that he’s not even going to dignify her lie with a response.

Instead, he motions to her younger self walking down the street.

“You spent all morning getting ready for this little lunch. You were excited and happy and you kept wondering why you weren’t freaking out.” He points to young Emma. “This is the moment you spotted him waiting for you,” Graham narrates as her younger self lifts her head to see Killian standing outside of the hotel. Emma watches as she opens her mouth to call out to him when her younger self suddenly stops. “And this is the moment you realized _why_ you weren’t freaking out… because you were in love with him.”

Young Emma blinks, her lips parting and she does nothing but stare for a moment before she quickly ducks into an alley.

“You’re also realizing that you love him a hell of a lot more than you loved Neal. Which meant that he could _hurt_ you more than Neal ever could.” She watches as her younger self begins to breathe heavy until her phone beeps and she pulls it out of her pocket. “But instead of talking to him about it… instead of trusting your best friend and telling him the truth you—”

“I sent him a text message and broke it off.” Emma explains as she watches her younger self do exactly that.

The message said exactly three words—

**Sorry, I can’t.**

—and she sent it without looking back.

Emotions make her throat tighten and she moves forward as her younger self walks in the opposite direction with her mouth open—she wants to tell her what she’s doing is a mistake. That this decision is going to cause more heartache and pain than she ever could have imagined. That she’ll miss him every single moment of every single day and the few times that she _will_ see him, it’ll feel like her heart is being ripped out of her chest—but she doesn’t say anything, because as soon as she moves, the scene changes and she’s suddenly standing in front of Killian.

With her eyes wide, she asks, “What’s this?”

“ _This_ is where you see the consequences of your actions.”

“No,” Emma whispers, mostly to herself as she shakes her head and takes a step back. “I don’t want to see this.”

“Too bad.”

Graham’s voice shows little remorse and Emma breathes through her nose and clenches her fists. Killian is still smiling, his gaze moving around to no doubt search for her, before his phone goes off and it’s like time stands still. She watches as he looks down, his eyes reading the message, and his whole body goes stiff. The beautiful smile that was spread wide on his face begins to fall as the words in the message register in his brain.

She expects him to curse, maybe give a little yell, because she knows he never responds to her… what she doesn’t expect is the way his arms fall to his sides and the way his eyes close as his head drops. There’s no hint of anger, there’s no frantic need to try and contact her… he just sucks in a deep breath before both of his hands move over his face. But not before she sees the single tear that falls down his cheek.

“Liam was waiting inside.” Graham says softly.

“Stop.”

“Now that he was moving to New York, _you_ decided it was time you told everyone you were a couple.”

“Graham, please.”

“He asked you repeatedly if you were sure before this and you told him yes, then when the day came you just left him without any explanation.”

That makes her spin toward him with tears in her eyes.

“You know, you act like all high and mighty but what about him?!” She growls, knowing that it’s a long shot but she’s backed into a corner and her emotions are getting the best of her and she doesn’t know what to do. “He didn’t call! He didn’t try… he didn’t even fight for me to stay!”

“Because what man wants to be in a relationship where he has to _convince_ the woman he loves to stay with him?” She balks at his words and Graham nods. “You know he was in love with you, Emma, deep down you know it, even though he never said the words. Tell me something, say he _had_ argued and tried to convince you… would it have changed your mind?”

She doesn’t have to look at him to know that he knows the answer.

No… it wouldn’t have changed a thing.

“You know he never told Liam.” She lifts her head and he continues, “He told Liam the surprise was a gift, made something up then went out and bought it for him to cover it all up. To this day, the only people that know you were in a relationship are you and him.”

Biting her bottom lip to keep it from quivering, she holds back her tears and mumbles, “Take me home.”

There’s a gust of wind and when her surroundings change, she’s back in the hall of the Mills mansion with Graham nowhere in sight. With a stuttering gasp, she falls back against the wall before a sob escapes from the back of her throat.

Emma can feel the wetness on her cheeks as the memory of Killian standing outside that hotel replays over and over in her mind. He looked so hurt… so distraught… and why the hell didn’t he tell Liam? She always figured he did… but he didn’t.

Why?

“Swan?”

She looks up to find Killian standing next to her with his brow furrowed and a gasp falls from her lips before she lurches forward.

“Killian!” She nearly trips and half falls into him forcing her to straighten herself so she can wrap her arms around his shoulders. He’s warm, he always was, and though he’s wearing a cologne she’s never smelled before, she loves it, because it’s so _him_. “Oh my god. I can’t believe… you’re…”

“Emma, what is it?” His left arm wraps around her while his right hand goes to cup the back of her head. “You’re shaking, love.”

It’s been two years, four months, and six days since she’s last been in his arms and she can’t believe she’s forgotten how _good_ it feels—how _right_.

“I think I’m going insane,” she whispers into his shoulder, her fingers gripping the leather of his waist coat. “I’m seeing things… I’m… my mind is going—”

“Shush, sweetheart,” he pulls her even closer and she feels a fresh batch of tears run down her cheeks. “You’re not going insane. It’s alright… tell me what happened.”

After a moment, she pulls back, her hands slowly moving to his shoulders then down to his chest while he moves his right hand under her chin to lift it. Her eyes move back and forth between his as he uses the pad of his thumb to brush her tears away.

“That day,” she starts softly and the way his lips twitch tells her he knows exactly what she’s talking about. “I never… I thought you…” She takes a deep breath. “What I mean is—”

“Oh, Killian, there you are!”

Killian jumps back like he’s been burned and the feel of his body slipping through her fingers is the snap back to reality that she needs. Her heart _aches_ because she allowed herself to feel, _not_ because she made a bad decision by ending things with him. If she had just stuck to her original code, she wouldn’t be feeling any of this and that’s _her_ fault.

“We’ve been looking all over for you.” Emma finally looks up to see Mary Margaret and a woman she doesn’t recognize standing at the end of the hall. “This is Milah, I was hoping you could show her around the estate.”

The woman, Milah, lifts her hand in a small wave as she smiles shyly, and Emma instantly understands what’s happening. Her sister has never been subtle in her matchmaking games. Ever since they were little, she thought every single person out there deserved to find someone to make them happy and she was constantly helping those looking for love. And Milah is there to be set up with Killian… _her_ Killian.

No.

Not her Killian, not anymore.

“Excuse me,” she mumbles.

“Emma, wait.”

But she doesn’t. She never does.

* * *

 

Emma’s sitting at the island in the kitchen nursing a glass of rum as the party echoes from the other room. David tried to get her to partake, and she did for a little while, but the sight of Killian and Milah talking in the corner of the living room was making her crazy. So, she made an excuse about checking on more appetizers and ran off to the kitchen.

The tears she had earlier seemed to be nonstop and while normally she wouldn’t be one to be grateful for big crowds, right now she is because it seems her sister is so distracted with hosting that she doesn’t notice how Emma has been actively keeping her eyes down to hide the redness.

Lifting the glass, she takes another sip and reaches up to wipe under her eyes just as she hears footsteps approach the kitchen.

“Mom?”

Doubling her effort to get rid of her tears, she blows out a breath and plasters the most convincing smile she can think of on her face.

“Yeah, kid, in the kitchen.”

Henry comes running with a wide smile and bright eyes. “Mom, is it okay if I go out and build a snowman? There’s enough snow in the backyard that it’ll work!”

Standing up from the island, she brushes a piece of hair away from her son’s forehead and shrugs, “You know it’s really cold out, right? And isn’t it almost time for the countdown?”

“That’s not for another two hours!” Henry whines. “And I’ll put my scarf and coat on! Please, mom. Uncle David and Killian said they would help.”

Her stomach flips. She wants to ask why Killian is offering to build a snowman with her son instead of talking to that Milah woman but doesn’t. Besides, it’s not all that hard to believe—Killian has always had a soft spot for Henry… ever since the moment he was born.

“Alright,” Emma relents, and Henry starts to bounce in excitement. “But make sure you bundle up before you go outside and listen to what Uncle David and Killian say!”’

“Thank you, mom!”

Henry gives her a kiss on the cheek before he turns to run out and she calls to him, “Remember to zip up your jacket!”

“I will!”

Though she’s smiling, she rolls her eyes because—

“You know he’s not going to zip up his jacket, right?”

Emma jumps at the voice, not knowing anyone else came into the kitchen and turns to look behind her. Blinking, her mouth falls open in confusion when she sees her assistant standing there.

“Anna?”

The redhead's eyes light up as she smiles, “Hey boss!”

“Anna, what are you doing here? I thought you were away with Kristoff’s family.”

“Oh, I am!” Anna giggles as she sits on the stool Emma had been sitting on. “Did you know that Kristoff use to compete in ice sculpture shows? He was very good, too!”

Emma licks her bottom lip, her head tilting while her assistant rambles on about her boyfriend’s ice sculpture skills and takes a step forward. Lifting her hand, she slowly moves to place it on Anna’s shoulder only to have it go through her the same way it went through Graham.

“Oh god!” Emma groans before she moves back to the island to snatch up her glass of rum. Swallowing it with one gulp, she picks up the bottle to pour another drink and grumbles, “I thought we were done with this!”

“Boss, you know the deal. Past, present, future. Three, Graham was number one, I’m number two.”

“Great.”

“I know, right?!” Anna’s excitement makes her wince and she takes another large gulp of her rum. “Do you still feel like you’re going crazy?”

“You have no idea.”

“Ha!” Anna snorts. “Just wait until you see this!”

Emma’s brows furrow and she opens her mouth to ask what she’s talking about only to stop when she hears someone come into the kitchen. Turning, she sees Henry rushing into the kitchen with his coat already on and Killian trailing behind him.

“Hey guys, are you—”

_“Huh, that’s weird,”_ Henry says as he looks around. _“Mom was just in here.”_

Her eyes go wide and Anna giggles from beside her.

“They totally can’t see you! Isn’t that awesome?!”

“Not really, Anna! It’s weird!”

Her assistant waves her off while Killian says to Henry that she is probably with Mary Margaret somewhere and motions for him to get closer.

_“Lad, come here.”_ Henry turns to him and Killian kneels down to his height. Emma smiles as she watches Killian reach for the zipper on her son’s jacket. _“You’ll catch cold if you don’t zipper up.”_

Emma smiles while Anna gushes.

“Aww! Aren’t they adorable?!” Emma gives a forced smile as Killian and Henry walk out the back door, and Anna starts to bounce up and down. “Oh, oh! Let’s go watch them build a snowman! I _love_ snowmen!”

It seems that despite her assistant being a ghost—or not a ghost because she’s not dead, an apparition, maybe—Anna’s voice is still so high, that it makes Emma flinch and her overabundance of energy, while adorable, is also exhausting.

“It’s cold out…”

“Emma, you’re not going to feel the weather! Let’s go!”

Anna claps her hands before Emma can say anything and the scene swirls around them. Suddenly, they are outside, and Emma has to take a deep breath to get her stomach to calm down, because despite having done this multiple times already, her eyes aren’t adjusted to seeing things change so quickly around her.

“So, what are you showing me now?” Emma asks as she walks forward.

Anna points ahead to wear Henry and Killian are and smiles.

“A conversation.”

_“I’m not an idiot,”_ Henry says as he packs snow on the torso of the snowman.

Killian tilts his head. _“Who said you were?”_

_“I know you and my mom were going out before you moved here.”_

Emma blushes while Killian gives a small chuckle.

_“Aye?”_

_“I saw you guys kissing all the time.”_

Killian chuckles again as he helps smooth out the torso and Emma shakes her head.

“So much for hiding away, huh, boss?” Anna snickers, but Emma ignores her.

_“But you’re not together anymore…”_ Henry looks over to Killian a small frown. _“Right?”_

Killian presses his lips together, his eyes trained on the snowman for a moment before he answers.

_“Right.”_

_“How come?”_

With a sigh, Killian kneels down on the ground to scoop up more snow, but Emma can tell it’s a stalling tactic and just when she feels like she’s about to go crazy waiting, he finally answers.

_“I don’t know, lad.”_

_“You have to know. You don’t have to lie to me, I’m not a little kid!”_

Emma folds her arms across her chest while Killian looks up at Henry.

_“Hey, look at me.”_ Henry does what’s asked of him and Killian continues with his brows raised, _“I’ve never lied to you, and I never will. I promise you that, alright?”_ A moment passes before Henry nods. _“Your mother and I were together, but we’re not anymore, haven’t been for a long while. No, I don’t know why, I wish to god I did.”_

She looks down at her feet while Anna sighs.

“Do you think you’ll ever tell him?”

Looking back up, she answers in a mumble, “I don’t know.”

_“I just… I just know that I liked when the three of us would hang out, and I know mom was a lot happier when you were around.”_ Henry sighs and adjusts his beanie. _“We were like a little family. I miss it, that’s all.”_

Killian stands and Emma has to fight back tears as she watches him place his hands on her son’s shoulder before leaning down to be eye level with him.

_“I miss it, too. But we are still a family, alright? Nothing will ever change that.”_ Henry nods with a small smile and Killian ruffles his hair. _“Come now, your Uncle will be out here any moment, what do you say to us finishing this and then getting him with some snowballs, aye?”_

Henry giggles and Emma takes a step back.

“He’s good with Henry,” Anna comments.

“Yeah,” Emma whispers. “He is… always has been.”

Silence falls between them for a moment as they continue to watch Henry and Killian, until she finally hears Anna ask.

“Tell me again why you’re not with him.”

Pressing her lips together, Emma does her best of acting indifferent before turning to Anna.

“Is there something else you want to show me?”

Anna gives a small smile before she claps and the scene swirls. Again, they are in the kitchen and Emma’s jaw clenches when she sees Milah and Mary Margaret. It’s not right, she doesn’t even know this woman, and yet the sight of her makes her tense all because she knows it’s someone her sister wants Killian to be with. Someone who isn’t her…

_“So, Killian,”_ Milah starts with a smile as she tucks a piece of her dark hair behind her ear. _“He seems… nice.”_

Mary Margaret’s face lights up and it makes Emma’s stomach knot.

_“He is! I knew you two would get along!”_

_“Yeah.”_ Milah looks toward the backyard and takes a step forward to whisper, _“I didn’t know he had a son.”_

_“Who?”_ Confusion drips from Mary Margaret’s voice before she quickly understands. _“Oh! You mean Henry? No, Killian’s not his father, he’s Emma’s son.”_

_“Emma? Is she the girl he was hugging in the hall?”_

It’s a normal question—one anyone would have—and Milah asks it casually enough, but it still makes Emma rolls her eyes.

_“Yes, she’s my sister.”_

Milah nods while she pours a bag of chips into a bowl, waiting a moment before she asks, _“Were her and Killian ever…”_

Emma scoffs and Anna giggles, making her snap her head toward her assistant.

“What’s so funny?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this before.”

“Like what?”

Anna smirks. “Jealous.”

A mix between a gasp and a grunt escapes the back of Emma’s throat, which in turn causes a coughing fit making her unable to refute what Anna is saying. It’s ridiculous for her to be jealous over Milah, she doesn’t even know her, and it’s not like Killian has shown interest in her… yet.

Ignoring the thundering of her own heart, she opens her mouth to counter Anna’s observation when Mary Margaret, who is mixing a dip, shakes her head.

_“No. They are just really good friends… or they were. I don’t know what happened, but either way, Killian still sees Henry once a week.”_

_“That’s sweet.”_

_“I’m sure they’ll be back in soon, though, so you and Killian can get to know each other more. I think you guys would really hit it off.”_

Emma turns away with a lump in her throat as the feel of betrayal washes over her. Mary Margaret was _her_ sister, and Killian was her—

A large puff of air passes her lips as she looks to Anna with a shrug.

“What was the point of me seeing this?” Anna tilts her head and Emma motions to the two women who are now walking out of the kitchen. “Are you trying to make me pissed at my sister?”

“Why would you get pissed at your sister?” Emma opens her mouth, but Anna cuts her off, “She’s just trying to set her friend up with someone who she thinks is good for him.”

“Yeah, but he’s my—” She stops herself and her eyes go wide.

“He’s your what?” Her mouth snaps shut, and Anna gives a humorless chuckle. “Because according to _everyone_ you guys have been nothing but friends since you were kids. So, why wouldn’t your sister think to set him up with someone?” Tears prick at the back of Emma’s eyes, but she keeps her face blank and Anna takes a step closer to her. “Boss… Emma… you can’t have a relationship with a picture in your desk drawer—yes I know about the picture.”

Emma’s ticking her jaw while she begins to sway back and forth on her feet.

“I… I don’t know—the picture isn’t even… I forget that it’s there half the time.”

“You take it out every day to look at it when you think I’m at lunch,” Anna counters and Emma’s jaw locks.

“Are we done here?”

With a frown, Anna takes a deep breath before nodding. “Yeah, boss, we’re done.”

The sound of the back door sliding open makes Emma turn and she sees Henry, David, and Killian walking in with their coats wet from snow and their cheeks red from laughter.

“What else are you going to show me?”

David looks up at her with his eyebrow raised. “We haven’t shown you anything yet, Em.”

She blinks, her mouth falling open before she whips around to look behind her only to find that Anna is no longer there. Looking around, her arms fall to her sides and she doesn’t stop looking for her assistant until she hears her son call out to her.

“Uh, what?”

The three of them stare at her like she’s gone crazy— _I probably am_ —for a moment until Killian clears his throat.

“Lad, why don’t you and Uncle David go to the living room and make sure Belle was able to snatch up some of those cookies for us before Will ate them all.”

Henry looks back and forth between Killian and Emma and doesn’t move until David ushers him forward. She offers a weak smile to him to let him know she’s okay, but she can see in his eyes he’s not really convinced. Turning back to Killian, she sees the smile along with the little wave he gives Henry, that drops as soon as the boy is gone.

“Emma, what is going on with you?” He hisses as he steps forward with his brows pinched together. “Are you drunk? Should I keep Henry occupied until you have some coffee or something?”

She balks. “I’m not drunk!”

“Then what’s wrong? You’re disappearing to who knows where and when you come back it’s like you’ve seen a ghost—” She nearly snorts at that. “—and that whole thing in the hall earlier…”

“What does it matter to you?”

Killian tilts his head and a drip from the wet snow falls from his hair.

“W-What—what does it matter to me? Bloody hell, Emma. Are you that stubborn that you refuse to see what’s happening to the people around you?”

With a snort, she folds her arms and spits, “I’m stubborn? You’re one to talk. Remind me, who is the one that stands out in the hall when he drops Henry off, refusing to come inside because you have to—” She lifts her arms to mimic quotations. “— _work_.”

He clenches his jaw. “And who’s the one that has avoided coming here the last two years because she’s had—” He mimics quotations. “— _work_.”

“Henry was sick last year!” The second the words are out of her mouth, she winces. The tone of her voice was the equivalent of a child making a weak argument in a school yard. Shaking her head, she growls, “Just so you know.”

He snorts and turns to walk out after mumbling, “Of course it doesn’t.”

“Yeah, you go ahead,” she calls over to him. “You don’t want to keep your friend waiting.”

Killian stops and turn back to her with his head tilted and his tongue pressed inside of his cheek.

“Oh, that’s what this is, then?”

“What?”

“If you can’t have me no one else can?” She breathes in deep and her top lip curls, but she doesn’t respond. “Need I remind you that _you_ broke things off with _me_?”

“I know what I did.”

“Then why the bloody hell am I being treated like the one who wronged you?” He nearly roars while taking two steps forward.

Her lips part and it takes her a moment before she softly says, “I’m not—”

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to see you, Emma?” He asks, his voice dripping with exhaustion. “It may mean nothing to you, but for me…”

He trails off, his hand on his chest before his head drops. Guilt hits her like a tidal wave and she steps forward.

“Killian—”

She’s cut off when his head snaps up and he swipes at his chin as he looks her in the eye.

“Let’s just stick to what works for us—we’ll speak when necessary about Henry, aye?” Feeling the tears prick the back of her eyes again, she looks to the floor and nods. “Right then.”

The sounds of his footsteps echo in her ears and her heart breaks with each step. With a sigh, she curses under her breath and moves to follow.

“Killian wait.”

It doesn’t surprise her that he stops—he’s always a gentleman—but she is surprised when it takes him a moment to turn back to her, and when he does, he averts his eyes for a moment before he eventually looks at her.

“What?”

Her mouth opens, but no words come out, because despite the fact that she’s been quite literally taken on a trip down memory lane, talking about what happened between her and Killian makes her stomach knot. After a moment, Killian snorts and shakes his head before he starts to turn again.

“No, wait!” She moves to grab his arm and sighs, “Look, I’m sorry, alright?”

“You’re sorry for what, exactly? Sorry for what just happened?” She goes to respond, but he continues, “Or are you sorry for breaking my heart and never telling me why?”

Emma’s face softens at that and Killian sniffs as he looks down at the floor. For a long while, they are silent and she knows he’s waiting for her explanation, but she just can’t… the words won’t come, and the truth is… she’s still scared.

She watches as he lifts his hand to swipe at his nose and she mumbles, “I _am_ sorry.”

“You know, there have been a few times where I thought to myself that we could get past what happened—” Her eyes go slightly wide with hope. “—whether it be just as friends or…”

He trails off and she moves a fraction of an inch closer as he shakes his head. Is he saying he thought they would get back together?

“Or what?”

A humorless laugh passes his lips before he lifts his gaze back to her and she finds his eyes once again filled with anger.

“It matters not.” Her brow furrows and he shrugs, “It’s not like it was anything special. I mean, who meets the person they are to spend the rest of their life with at the age of ten, anyway?”

It takes every ounce of energy she has not to sob right there. Instead she swallows the lump in her throat and tucks her hair behind her ears.

“I _am_ so—”

“Don’t, Swan.” He lifts his hand to stop her, and mumbles, “Just don’t.”

* * *

 

The second Emma’s bedroom door shuts, she rests against it and allows for her tears to finally fall. She knew coming home for New Year’s would be a bad idea, she knew that she wouldn’t be able to avoid Killian—she didn’t know she would go insane and think she was traveling back in time—and she knew that it would be difficult… she just didn’t know that it would hit her feelings so hard.

A sob falls past her lips as she slides to the floor and everything she’s been avoiding feeling for two years seems to hit her all at once. Why did she have to agree to that date with him that night? Why didn’t she stick to her rules of no dating and no serious relationships…?

But on the other hand, why did she walk away from him that day? Why didn’t she just tell him the truth instead of leaving him standing there like a jackass? And why didn’t he tell anyone? She wouldn’t blame him if he did…

“I can’t do this,” she whispers to herself while running her hands through her hair. After a moment, she lifts her head and calls out to the empty room. “This is too much, Regina. I don’t know what you want me to do anymore. Do you want me to feel bad for hurting him? I do! I do so bad, and I know he hates me… but what am I supposed to do? I can’t… I can’t feel this way any—”

There’s a knock on her bedroom door and it makes her jump.

“Just a second.” Wiping frantically at her eyes, Emma pushes herself up onto her feet and takes a deep breath before opening the door. “Hey, what’s—Killian?” He stands in front of her with his arms behind his back and his head tilted. She waits a while and when he doesn’t answer, she asks, “Is everything alright? Does Henry need me?”

Still nothing and she’s about to growl at him to answer when she notices that he’s wearing different clothes… he’s wearing a tuxedo and he looks… _good_.

“Why did you change into a tux? Did I miss something?” No answer and her eyes widen. “Killian, seriously, what’s wrong with you?” He raises an eyebrow and she steps forward to put her hand on his bicep, only there’s no contact and her hand goes through him. Blinking, she looks at her hand for a moment before she looks back up at Killian. “Oh, hell no! How are _you_ the last ghost? This is crazy!”

He still says nothing, and she shakes her head. She’s _sure_ she’s gone insane now. How can she be seeing an apparition of someone who is downstairs?! Squeezing her eyes shut for a moment, she remembers how her mother said there would only be three, which means that _this_ Killian is the last and she opens her eyes.

“Alright,” she mumbles. “Let’s go.”

Killian smiles and she feels her cheeks heat up as he winks. There’s a bright light and Emma moves forward to follow him into it.

“Are you going to show me myself dead? Because I don’t think it’ll work.” They continue to walk forward as their surroundings begin to clear and Emma’s brow furrows as she looks around. “Are we in a church? Oh, yeah, that’s right, you don’t talk. Well, in that case… you look extra yummy in that tux.”

He snorts and shakes his head though there’s still a smile on his face. It begins to become very clear around them and it seems like they are definitely in a church. There are people sitting in pews and a priest standing at the altar. The sun is shining bright through the stained glass windows and it makes the colors bounce off the white walls.

“So, what’s this?” Killian tilts his head, once again not answering and she rolls her eyes. “Still not talking, huh? Keep that up, it’s not super cre—”

The sound of a door echoing off the walls of the church makes her stop and when she looks up, her mouth falls open. Killian is walking out with Liam and David following behind him and they are all wearing tuxedos. They stop at the altar and a smile begins to twitch at Emma’s lips.

“Is this… is this a wedding?” Of course the Killian that’s will her doesn’t answer and Emma’s smile is full blown when she sees a priest walk out. She thinks back to one of the last things Killian said to her, how he had hoped they could move past what happened between them and her heart starts do race. They get back together? That’s her future? Can this be real?

“We get married? Wow… I mean, I never thought I’d get married to anyone, but if I was it would definitely be—”

She stops when the music starts to play and everyone in the church stands. Moving to the middle of the isle, Emma bites her bottom lip and waits to see herself come through the closed doors. To be honest, she’s thought once or twice of what type of dress she would pick, but it’s something that she never gave much thought to. Not since she was a little girl at least…

The doors swing open and Emma begins to anxiously rock on her feet. Did she get a veil? Did she get a ballroom cut or more of an empire waist? Is Henry giving her away? Is Mary Margaret her maid of—

Emma’s entire body goes stiff and her heart feels like it drops into her stomach. It’s not her… the woman dressed in a wedding dress walking down the aisle toward Killian is not her…

It’s Milah.

“What is this?” Tears prick her eyes as she watches Milah walk forward, a gorgeous smile etched on her face. She looks back over her shoulder and her heart breaks when she finds the same smile on Killian’s face. “You marry her?! You two don’t even know each other!”

Milah walks through her and Emma lets out a small cry.

“This isn’t real, right?” She asks frantically as she walks up to the Killian that brought her here. “I mean, this is just a maybe, right?”

Killian lifts his eyebrow and she nearly whimpers. Turning back to the altar, a tear rolls down her cheek as she sees Killian lift the veil away from Milah’s face.

“No, no,” she whispers, rushing up to stand next to them. “He’s supposed to be with me! He was _always_ supposed to be with me!”

The priest smiles between Milah and Killian and lifts his head to the crowd.

“If there is anyone here that believes that these two should not be married, speak now or forever hold your peace.

“Me!” Emma shouts. “I’m speaking now! I’m in love with him!” Her mouth falls open and she takes a step back. Blinking she turns back to the Killian that brought her here and giggles, “I’m in love with you… and I need to tell you. I can’t let this happen.” Emma rushes forward. “Please take me back… _please_.”

The right side of Killian’s lips tug up and it’s like time stands still and a year passes before he finally winks. The scenery around them changes and Emma falls forward and has to hold her hands out to grasp the banister so she doesn’t go over the landing. Sucking in a deep breath, she looks around to find herself in the hall of the mansion and giggles.

“Wait, what time is it?” She asks herself while whipping her head back and forth.

The grandfather clock against the wall reads quarter to twelve and she nearly does a dance at the knowledge that she hasn’t missed New Years, yet. Running down the steps, Emma rushes into the living room, and gives a soft curse when her shoulder bumps into the doorway.

“Mom!” Henry calls out, running up to her with a frown on his face. “There you are! Are you okay?”

“Yeah!” She’s breathing heavy and her heart is pounding in her chest as she smiles down at her son. “I’m great, kid. I’m sorry I’ve been acting so weird tonight.”

“It’s okay.” Emma tilts her head and Henry shrugs. “Killian says you’re probably just upset about being here without Grandma Regina, and I am, too. But it helps me to remember that she’s watching over us.”

Emma smiles before reaching forward to bring her son to her for a hug and pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“You’re right, kid, she is.” Henry smiles up at her and she brushes a piece of hair away from his forehead. “Hey, where are your pots and pans? It’s almost time for the count down!”

Henry’s eyes go wide, and Emma nearly falls to her knees in thanks when Belle and Will step forward, offering to take him in the kitchen to find some. Her sons giggles as he rushes out of the room make her smile, and when he’s finally gone, she moves her gaze over the crowd.

Killian is standing in the back talking to his brother and she thanks whoever is listening that he’s not in that corner with Milah.

_That would have been awkward._

Moving forward, Emma heads toward Killian with her hands slightly shaking and determination in her step.

“Hello, Emma,” Liam greets with a smile while Killian looks to his left and takes a sip from his glass. “I was wondering how long it was going to take for you to come over.”

“You were?”

Liam chuckles, “Of course. You and Killian were always together for the countdowns.”

Killian takes another gulp of his drink, his eyes avoiding hers as she whispers, “Yeah, we were. Liam, do you mind if I talk to Killian for a minute?”

Liam looks back and forth between them before his eyes finally settle on his younger brother. There’s a silent conversation between the two brothers until eventually Killian gives a small nod.

“For a minute there I thought you were going to tell me fuck off,” she jokes.

He swipes at the corners of his mouth and finally looks at her.

“Because that’s something that I would do?” Emma opens her mouth to respond but Killian continues, “What is it that you want, Swan? I thought we came to an agreement.”

“Well, I wanted to talk about that…”

He gives a huff and shakes his head.

“I don’t want to talk, Emma. Not now, maybe later, just…” He stops to run a hand through his hair. “Not now.”

Before she can stop him, he walks off and her stomach begins to knot. If it were a couple hours ago, she’d give up, swallow the pain of rejection and ignore the ache in her heart. But now she’s determined, he needs to know the truth.

“Excuse me, everyone!” Emma looks up to see her sister standing in the middle of the room while tapping her fork against her glass. “If I could just have your attention, please. With only a couple minutes before the New Year, I wanted to—”

“I have something to say, actually,” Emma interrupts with her hand up as she moves forward. Mary Margaret blinks and she gives her sister a smile. “I know you always make the speech, Mar, but if I could just have a quick moment…”

Her sister does her best to hide her surprise, motioning for Emma to come up and she breathes a sigh of relief. Turning back toward the crowd, her heart begins to really pound when she sees everyone looking at her, but none of it matters when she sees Killian in the back.

“Um, well, you guys know this is the first time I’ve been back here in a couple years, and if it weren’t for some major arm twisting by my sister here, I probably wouldn’t have even come back this year, but you all probably know that, too.” She chuckles dryly and shakes her head. “What you don’t know is the reason _why_ I haven’t been back here. Two years ago, I got into a relationship with someone—a _real_ relationship, not just dating—and it was… great. He made me laugh, we spent every moment we could together and when we weren’t, I _missed_ him.”

“With who?” Mary Margaret asks, her voice low but dripping with curiosity.

Emma looks over and locks eyes with the man in the back.

“With Killian.” Her gaze moves to Liam. “That day Killian took you out to lunch, Liam, right before he moved here? The surprise he was going to show you was me… I was supposed to be there at lunch, we were going to tell you that we had been in a relationship for six months and I was the reason he was moving to New York, but I broke up with him on the way there.”

Liam looks at his younger brother in question while Killian clenches his jaw and slowly shakes his head.

“Since then, he’s told literally _no one_ about what I did or our relationship and has continued to be a constant male role model in my son’s life. I mean, we basically share custody of him,” she chuckles, but when no one shares her humor she stops and briefly looks to the ground before making eye contact with a confused looking Killian. “You’ve been amazing, and I’ve been an ass and I know I can’t make up for what I did… but I wanted you to know the truth.” With another deep breath, she tucks her hair behind her ears and blocks out everyone but her and Killian.

“I broke up with you because I was scared. We were _so_ happy… _I_ was so happy, and I was afraid that you were going to hurt me, and I thought it would be easier if I left first and you’re right, I was so stubborn I didn’t see how it was affecting those around me.” She takes a step forward. “I ignored the fact that Henry missed having Sunday morning pancakes with you, and I ignored the fact that me breaking up with you without an explanation would affect you just as much as it affected me.”

Killian’s jaw clenches and she bites her bottom lip.

“I was stupid. You would never hurt me, and I should have remembered that, but I got so lost in my past pain that I forgot who I was with… my best friend. I know that I’m probably too late and my words will most likely mean shit now, but I have to say them. I’m sorry that I hurt you. I’m sorry that I forgot what good friends we are and I’m sorry that I treated you like our time together didn’t matter.” Killian’s face remains blank and Emma presses her lips together. “But most of all, I’m sorry that—”

“We got the pots and pans, is everyone—” Everyone looks over to see Henry, Belle, and Will walking in the room and her son’s eyes go wide. “What’s wrong?”

Mary Margaret is the one that jumps up first.

“Nothing! There’s nothing wrong, we were just waiting for our pots and pans! Everyone!” Her sister motions to Henry with a forced smile. “Come pick out your pots and pans!”

The crowd starts to move, and Emma curls her hands into her sleeves. Standing on her toes, she looks for Killian, but he seems to have disappeared and it makes her frown. She knew there was a chance that he wasn’t going care what she had to say, but she had a hoped that maybe he would—

Emma’s yanked to the left and her mouth falls open when she sees Killian standing there with his eyes wide in frantic.

“What was the last part?”

She blinks. “What?”

“The last part,” he asks softly, his eyes moving over her face. “What was the last part.”

Feeling his fingers flex on her bicep, she wets her lips and says, “I’ve been in love with you since I was seven years old.” Killian sucks in a breath and she feels a tear roll down her cheek. “I’m sorry it’s taken me twenty-one years to admit it.” Killian eyes move back and forth between hers. “I know that you—”

But she doesn’t get a chance to finish, because just as she starts to speak, Killian pulls her to him and slams his lips against hers. The kiss is somehow slow and fast at the same time, and the way he wraps his arms around her makes her feel like he’s trying to mold them together.

“I love you, too,” he mumbles against her lips, before he pulls back just an inch to look her eyes. “Always have, always will.”

Killian kisses her again when the clock strikes twelve and Emma thinks it’s the best New Year’s she’s ever had… until the next year when he slips a ring on her finger as they count down and she says yes.


End file.
